


i let the seasons change my mind

by neenswrites



Series: KuroKen Week 2020 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comfort, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, KuroKen Week, KuroKen Week 2020, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23625040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neenswrites/pseuds/neenswrites
Summary: Kenma was just waiting for Kuroo to leave him behind. Kuroo was just waiting for Kenma to find someone more interesting.-Day 1: Comfort
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: KuroKen Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700602
Comments: 34
Kudos: 502
Collections: Kuroken Week 2020, My favorite haikyuu fics, Recommended KuroKen Fics





	i let the seasons change my mind

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY KUROKEN WEEK EVERYONE
> 
> okay so full disclosure, i thought comfort was best paired with some hurt,,,,and then maybe went a little overboard on the hurt
> 
> BUT there is still comfort and there is definitely a happy ending!!!!
> 
> title is from [writer in the dark](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H1Wevfw_Nxk)  
> by lorde bc i am unable to come up with fic titles on my own

“Look, look Kenma, there it is!” Kuroo calls out as he points to the television screen. He looks back at his friend, and pouts when he realizes he still looking at his DS. “Really, Kenma?’

“I’m not at a good stopping point,” Kenma mumbles above him from his seat on the couch. Kuroo can barely even make out the top of his head with all the blankets he has surrounding him. He pulls on the closest one until it falls on the ground beside him, and grins at Kenma’s now revealed face.

“Do you have a game you can play that doesn’t need stopping points?” Kuroo asks as he sticks out his bottom lip in a pout. Kenma looks wary, but his grandmother has told him many times that his puppy dog face is very effective. “Just this once please!”

Kenma stares at Kuroo for a long while, but Kuroo doesn’t relent. Finally, he breaks his gaze with a sigh.

“Animal Crossing should be on my dresser,” Kenma says, and Kuroo is up and running up the stairs before Kenma even finishes his sentence.

He’s already been there dozens of times, but Kuroo always looks forward to visiting the Kozume’s house. Their living room has a big tv that was perfect for watching games, and Kenma’s room has loads of video games. Staring at them all now, he’s almost distracted before he sees the small DS cartridge Kenma left lying on his dresser.

And sure, he thinks as he makes his way back down to the living room, while he’d usually rather go outside and actually play volleyball, he considers it a small win that Kenma agreed to watch the game with him.

Even if he is barely doing so.

“Kenma look now!” Kuroo says, and he smiles as the personal time difference attack gains the Tamadan team another point. He looks back at his friend, and this time is happy to see Kenma looking at the tv with an almost impressed look in his eye.

Half a second passes and he turns back to his game. Kuroo lets out a small laugh and turns back to watch the game with a smile.

He continues to watch as the players on the screen do things he only wishes he could do. As the other side gears up for what looks to be another time difference attack, he barely has to time to call out Kenma’s name before the attack is being blocked by the players on the other team.

Kuroo feels himself deflate.

“What?!”

“I think they did it too many times.”

Kuroo blinks at Kenma’s answer. He hadn’t been expecting one, but now that he’s spoken, he looks up expectantly at the boy. Kenma meets his gaze, before tilting his head away and toward the television.

“I think it only works well if the other team isn’t expecting it,” Kenma says absentmindedly. “Because otherwise, they’ll catch on and just jump in time with guy hiding in the back. And since he’s farther from the net, his hit is easier to stop if they see it coming.”

Kuroo is looking at Kenma like he’s just invented the stars.

“…What?” Kenma asks, burrowing himself further into his blankets.

“That’s incredible!” Kuroo shouts. Kenma cowers further, and Kuroo remembers he needs to lower his voice around his friend. Speaking more gently, he continues, “Sorry, I just got excited. How did you figure that out?”

“It’s just a game like any other, right?” Kenma says, and Kuroo restrains himself from correcting him. “So, like any other game, there’s always a strategy. You just have to look for it.”

“What do you think will happen next then. For them to win the set point, I mean.”

Kenma looks up from his DS, and for what seems to be the first time since the game started, looks at the television screen for more than five seconds.

“Well the yellow team has good defense, but their blockers hesitate a lot,” Kenma says slowly, his eyes scanning screen. Kuroo should probably be more annoyed that Kenma doesn’t even know the names of the teams playing, but he can’t bring himself to care. “If the red team gives the ball to the one outside person on the left who hasn’t gotten the ball a lot, I think they’d get the next point.”

Kuroo nods along because a lot of what Kenma’s is saying makes sense. Even if he doesn’t know the terminology, the logic behind his thought process adds up. Then his entire body stills.

“Wait a minute…,” Kuroo says before pointing at Kenma accusingly. “If you know all of that, that means you _have_ been paying attention!”

Kuroo laughs as he watches Kenma’s entire face flush all over. Kenma pulls his blankets up higher in response, and Kuroo immediately jumps up on the couch to pull them back down.

“No, I’m sorry for laughing,” he says, even though it’s probably not convincing since he’s still giggling. “I’m just really surprised is all.”

“What’s so surprising?” Kenma mumbles as he finally gives up and lets Kuroo yank yet another blanket away. “You wanted to come over to watch the match, and even asked me to change my game. If it means that much, then yeah I was watching too.”

Kuroo beams and resists the urge to hug Kenma.

“And maybe if I watch, I can help you figure out how to the time difference thing,” Kenma says under his breath. It sounds more like he’s speaking to himself, but Kuroo latches on to anyway.

“Does that mean you’ll play with me for real on a team!”

“No,” Kenma deadpans, and he finally turns back to his game. Kuroo feels himself deflate a little, but quickly picks himself back up.

It takes baby steps with Kenma. Before, he never would have even watched a volleyball match, but here they are in his living room doing so! He had plenty of time to convince him to give the sport a real try.

Kuroo returns his focus back to the tv, and soon he’s pulled back into the game. The volley that’s happening is intense, and Kuroo feels himself leaning even closer to tv with every hit that’s returned. As the ball goes towards his team, Kuroo’s eyes widen as he sees the formation for a personal time difference attack. He opens his mouth to call Kenma’s attention but is left speechless as the setter instead sets the ball to the outside spiker who slams it to other side of the court for the set point.

Just like Kenma said.

The team is cheering, and the audience is going wild, but Kuroo just turns to look back at Kenma in awe.

The boy in question is looking at the screen with his own wide eyes.

“…I was right?”

“You were right!” Kuroo explodes, jumping up and nearly knocking the coffee table. Kuroo yelps as he pulls his knee from the near collision and turn to Kenma to apologize. But Kenma’s still looking at the screen. He stares a little longer before a small smile graces his face.

Kuroo’s eyes widen.

“Kenma, you’re incredible.”

Kenma’s blushing again, but Kuroo can’t bring himself to be ashamed. He knows he’s right.

“I’m really not,” Kenma denies, trying to turn his entire body away from Kuroo’s gaze. “I just…got lucky or something.”

“Did not!”

“Did too.”

“Did not!”

“Did too.”

“Fine, why don’t you try and guess again,” Kuroo asks with a grin. “If you get it right, then I’m right. If not, then you’re right.”

“Fine,” Kenma agrees with narrowed eyes. “But I need time to come up with what I think.”

“Take all the time you need!”

And Kuroo finally settles himself down on the floor as Kenma studies the game continuing on without them. As his initial excitement dies down, he’s not very surprised at the dread that follows it.

He’s always known that Kenma was fun and cool but seeing him predict what professional volleyball players were about to do brought him to a whole other level. A level way above Kuroo at least.

He begins bouncing his knee and shoots a nervous glance at Kenma.

And what does Kuroo even have?

He is a shy mess who was barely even able to say a word to Kenma the first time they met. Sure, while he’s better now around the other boy, he still closes up around any other person he meets. And even if Kenma has trouble speaking with people, under all that he is this incredible mastermind. Kuroo isn’t like that at all. Underneath all his shyness, he’s just. Kuroo.

So what’s going to happen to him once Kenma meets someone more interesting.

“Kuro why are they switching that person in to serve,” Kenma sighs petulantly. “It’s messing up my guesses.”

Kuroo lets out a small chuckle.

Well, at least he has Kenma as his friend for now.

-

As Kuroo continues breaking out of his shell, Kenma doesn’t expect their friendship to last much longer.

For a while, he wonders if Kuroo only sticks with him out of a sense of obligation more than anything else. They did end up at the same middle school after all, and Kuroo was the kind of person who wouldn’t leave his childhood friend to fend for himself.

And there’s the term – childhood friend. Kuroo always says it with such pride when he introduces Kenma to people, but Kenma pretty much hates the words.

To him, it implies that they’re only friends out of convenience. That by chance they happened to become neighbors and end up playing together. That the only thing keeping them going was shared history. That if they met for the first time now, they’d be very different things to each other.

Kenma has an idea of what they’d be. Or more specifically what they wouldn’t be.

He feels like he’s just waiting for Kuroo to come to the same realization as him.

And once Kuroo enters high school, it seems more impending than ever.

The first person that seems to grab Kuroo’s attention is someone named Yaku. Kuroo complains about him more than anything, but the amount that he talks about his teammate tells Kenma he respects the guy more than anything else. Kenma’s met him a couple times too while he’s been waiting for Kuroo to finish practice, and he was nothing but pleasant to him. It’s a little strange that he seemed to know about Kenma, but Kuroo talked a lot so he was bound to come up.

The next person is someone named Bokuto who doesn’t even go to his school. Kuroo met him at a training camp, and now he and Bokuto talk regularly. From what he’s seen and heard, Bokuto is loud and energetic and brings out a playful side of Kuroo that he doesn’t get with a lot of people. And now, Kuroo starts throwing around terms like bro or favorite person, and Kenma tries not to wilt at the way he never gets called those things. Just childhood friend.

And Kenma’s not mad, or even really jealous about Kuroo making new friends. He’s kind of always thought it’d be better for Kuroo to go his own way. He was smart, and outgoing, and talented in a myriad of ways – so it’d only make sense for him to outgrow his kid neighbor.

But even if he doesn’t feel any resentment, he is sad. Kuroo’s introduced him to a lot of friends as he’s gotten older, but none of them have even come close to meaning something to him as Kuroo has.

He may not be what’s best for Kuroo, but Kuroo has always been what’s best for him. And he wants to stay special to Kuroo in a way that’s not as arbitrary as childhood friend. Kenma guesses he’s selfish in that way.

He thinks it’s that selfishness that’s really at the root of their current argument.

“You can at least give him a chance!”

Kenma wishes he could just go back to sleep, but Kuroo had seemed so harmless when he initially asked Kenma if he could come over. Kenma should have known that Kuroo had something up his sleeve. It was too good to be true that he wanted to spend an entire beautiful Saturday in his room and not making Kenma do anything.

“Kuro, think about every incident you’ve told me about Bokuto,” Kenma says with a sigh. He pauses so Kuroo has a moment to reflect. “Now tell me why you think we’d get along?”

Kuroo let out a long-suffering groan, and Kenma rolled his eyes. He knows this just means he’s right.

“I know I made Bo out to sound like a lot,” and Kenma is actively trying not to squint his eyes at the nickname. “But trust me when I say he’s a really nice guy! And he’s one of the my favorite people ever, you have to trust me.”

“I trust that you believe that,” Kenma replies, itching for his handheld. Kuroo had snatched it from him at the beginning of the conversation, and Kenma is now forced to look at Kuroo’s face. It wasn’t that he didn’t like that, but he would prefer if Kuroo didn’t have full view of his expressions while they talked about this.

“Kenma don’t be like that,” Kuroo pleads. He looks about ready to get on his knees and beg, and it irks Kenma the lengths that Kuroo seems willing to go for this. “I already asked Bo to keep next weekend free for us!”

“Then you shouldn’t have agreed on behalf of me.”

“But he’s really excited to meet you!”

Kenma scrunches his nose on instinct and gives Kuroo a disbelieving look. “Why would he be excited about meeting me?”

“Because you’re my childhood friend!”

And maybe it’s the nickname Bo, or that he’d called Bokuto one of his favorite people, or just the idea in general, but hearing that phrase seems to tip the scales for him.

“Why do you always say that?” Kenma snaps. He sounds angrier than he’d intended, but Kuroo looks startled and that makes it feel worth it.

“What? Say what?”

“Childhood friend.”

And Kuroo looks so bewildered that Kenma is starting to feel a little bad. It’s not like he’s ever mentioned his disdain for the word, so this has to seem like it’s coming out of nowhere. But he doesn’t think he can hold it back anymore.

“…do you not like being childhood friends?”

“It’s not like there’s anything we can do to change that,” Kenma replies as he averts his gaze to the ground. He hears Kuroo make an aborted sound, but he can’t really take looking at him right now. “But I don’t like how you introduce me as it all the time. And it’s like all anyone apparently knows about me,” (the only reason Bokuto wants to me, Kenma thinks bitterly), “and…I just think it’s time that we grew out of it.”

He hears Kuroo take a shaky breath, and Kenma hopes he just accepts it. He doesn’t know how to explain further without admitting that he wants to be something more special to Kuroo. He wants to be the one who’s Kuroo’s best friend. And he doesn’t want to hear him say that he’s never going to be able to reach that with him.

But of course, Kuroo was never one to settle.

“But…I mean why not say childhood friends?”

“I mean we’re not children anymore.”

“…No?”

“…But we’re still friends?”

And Kenma hates that it comes out like a question, but he’s really not the one deciding if they’re friends or not. If it were up to him, he and Kuroo would be by each other’s sides forever.

Kenma blinks.

Well, that’s a thought he should probably look into.

“Of course, we are,” Kuroo exclaims, pulling Kenma from his thoughts. He finally looks up to look at Kuroo who quickly averts his eyes. “I mean, unless you don’t want to be.”

“Of course, I do,” Kenma says before he could even think. Kuroo looks visibly relieved at his response and Kenma feels incredulous. How could he think otherwise?

He voices just as much.

“I mean the way you’re talking makes it sound like you didn’t want to,” Kuroo says as he scuffs his toe against the ground. “Like you don’t like being childhood friends.”

“That’s not what I was trying to say,” Kenma amends apologetically. The last thing he wants is for Kuroo to think he doesn’t want to be friends with him. “I just don’t want to be _just_ your childhood friend.”

There’s a pause, and then Kenma’s words register. His eyes widen, and his heart starts beating rapidly in his chest. Why did he word it like that, now Kuroo is going to think he has a crush on him when that isn’t what he means at all. Right?

But even as panic spreads all over him, a strange sort of peace clouds his mind because – oh. Maybe that is sort of what he means.

“Kenma,” Kuroo says softly as he reaches down to gently grab his hand. He appreciates the gesture, but in light of his incredibly recent revelation he kind of wishes Kuroo wasn’t so affectionate. “It’s okay, I know what you mean.”

Kenma doesn’t even know what he means.

“You’re not just my childhood friend,” Kuroo continues, and Kenma’s heart soars and plummets simultaneously because he honestly doesn’t know what he wants Kuroo to say next. Kuroo speaks anyways.

“You’re my best friend.”

A beat.

And then Kenma nearly jumps at Kuroo and wraps him in a hug. He hopes he’s startled enough not to notice the way his eyes are tearing up or his breath is coming in a little shaky.

It seems really cruel for him to realize what he wanted Kuroo to say after he says the opposite.

It seems even crueler that Kuroo finally calls him his best friend just as Kenma realizes he wants so much more.

-

Kuroo has prided himself in the way he’s always been able to support Kenma.

Other people get annoyed or frustrated when dealing with his lack of reaction, but Kuroo can read his excitement from just the way his eyes light up. Kenma’s emotions are almost never overt, but Kuroo would never hold him to that standard anyway. He never expects Kenma to give more than what he’s always given.

Until he meets Hinata Shouyo.

It was surprising to find Kenma talking with the guy when he’d gone looking for him. Kenma isn’t one for making conversation, and if he doesn’t want to speak to someone he’ll just sit there in silence. But Kenma was looking at the little guy with focus and waved him goodbye with a smile once Kuroo had come to pick him up. It was unlike anything Kuroo had ever seen from him.

It was shocking to see the interest in which Kenma had played the practice match. Kenma never slacks off during games, and he always makes sure to do his best in even during practice matches. But this was unlike any other time he’d played before. Even when they’d won the final set, his eyes had stayed locked onto Hinata across the net.

It was pretty much jaw dropping to see Kenma talk with him after the game. He exchanged information with #10 without hesitation, and the other player hadn’t even batted an eye. He had no idea how strange the behavior was, and how lucky he is that Kenma was giving him the time of day.

And Kuroo is honestly so mixed up about the entire ordeal.

As a captain, this is good. He really does want to ensure a new relationship between Karasuno and Nekoma and having the younger members of the team click so easily means that the relationship will continue on even once he’s graduated. It also means they’ll be able to keep tabs on their destined rivals and see if they can figure out more about their fancy quick.

As his best friend, this is great. He’s always wanted Kenma to branch out and talk to people more. He’s happy he gets along so well with the team, but Kuroo has always wanted Kenma to try making friends on his own. He feels like it’ll really help with Kenma's social anxieties.

But as the person who has a crush on him, Kuroo can’t help the feeling swirling around in his chest. It’s dark and ugly, and he knows he will never let it shadow over even one interaction with Kenma. But still it’s there.

And even as they say goodbye to the crows, and load into the bus, Kuroo's body feels heaving with jealousy looming over him.

So of course, Kenma notices.

“What’s wrong?”

“You know, people usually ask if somethings wrong instead of just assuming,” Kuroo teases back in an admittedly weak attempt at avoiding the question. Kenma shoots him an unimpressed looked.

“If I was unsure if anything was wrong then I’d ask. But I won’t. Because I’m not,” Kenma says as he narrows his eyes as him. Kuroo is grateful that at the very least they’re sitting at the back of the bus where no one is paying attention to them. “You’re avoiding the question too. So, you might as well just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know, I just feel off after the game is all,” Kuroo half lies, hoping it’ll be enough to appease Kenma.

“But we won.”

“Yeah I caught that, thanks.”

“So then why are you upset?” Kenma presses, and it’s clear he’s uncomfortable with the question. Kuroo can’t really fault him for it either. He can’t remember the last time he’d avoided answering a question from Kenma like this. Hell, he’s not sure if he’s ever even tried.

“Why can’t I just feel off after a game?” Kuroo asks, once again avoiding the question and once again being met with an undecipherable expression from Kenma. He tilts his body away from the boy at this side, and resolutely looks out the window. He pretends he doesn’t see Kenma and the way his eyes widen reflected in the window.

“…you don’t have to lie to me,” Kenma says after a long pause. His voice is low, and void of all tone, and Kuroo kind of hates himself. “You could just tell me you don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo says immediately, even if he doesn’t turn to look at Kenma. “But you’re right. I don’t want to talk about it.”

And it hadn’t even crossed his mind to simply tell Kenma that because they’ve never been in this sort of situation before. Kuroo almost always tells Kenma what’s wrong, and on the rare occasions he doesn’t, Kenma never pushes it. Their entire dynamic feels so off balance, and this is with him actively trying not let his jealousy show.

Fantastic.

Kenma nods in response to Kuroo, and finally pulls out his game. But the silence that follows isn’t at all comfortable. They’re not touching at any point, and Kuroo isn’t looking over Kenma’s shoulder, and the best thing Kuroo figures he could do is fall into a fitful sleep until the arrive back in Tokyo.

And it isn’t until they’ve been dropped off at the school, have gone on the train, and have just entered their neighborhood that Kenma speak up again.

“If you don’t want to talk to me then that’s fine,” Kenma says in a tone that makes it abundantly clear that it’s not fine.

Kuroo opens his mouth to say something, anything to assure Kenma that it’s not his fault, but Kenma isn’t looking up at him and continues, “Just try and find someone to talk with this about, okay?”

And Kuroo knows he should be touched by the sentiment, but he can’t help the way it rubs him the wrong way. He knows he pretty much snapped at Kenma earlier for pushing, but damn he wishes he would push just a little more instead of backing off. Not because he’s trying to be coy, but because he worries this will start a pattern where the number of things they can’t talk to each other about will grow.

“What about you?” Kuroo speaks before his brain can catch up to him. Kenma looks up at him questioningly, and Kuroo stops as he realizes they’re finally in front of his house.

“If you have a problem that you think you can’t talk to me about, are you just going to find someone else?”

And Kuroo knows it sounds petty and that he said earlier that he wasn’t going to let his jealousy ruin anything, but now all he can see is Kenma choosing Hinata over him – starting small with whatever he can’t talk to Kuroo about until it snowballs into every conversation. He’ll start going to Hinata because he’s so interesting to Kenma while Kuroo is just. There.

Kenma studies him for a long time, and Kuroo expects to be called out on this. Expects for Kenma to call him a hypocrite, get rightfully annoyed, or even deduce that Kuroo’s actions have all been fueled by his feelings of inadequacy.

What he doesn’t expect is for Kenma to turn from him and start walking towards his door as he says, “If that happens, I think I’d be more worried about the state of our friendship than trying to find someone else to talk to.”

The final word is marked by the sound of his front door closing, and Kuroo’s heart drops because it sounds like Kenma is already preparing for the end.

-

Third year of high school is a lot more stressful than Kenma had anticipated.

Between the volleyball team, studying for entrance exams, and generally more difficult classes, Kenma finds himself stressed out more often than not. It feels nice to be able to talk to other third years about it, like Tora, Fukunaga, and Akaashi, but Kenma really wishes he was be able to talk to Kuroo in person about everything.

But their infrequent calls would have to suffice.

“And now I’m relegated to helping Lev study so that he can actually attend the practice match,” Kenma sighs as he idly fills another answer in his practice book. “I know I compare the two a lot, but I wish Lev was at least better than Shouyo in academics.”

“I take it Lev is a little too overexcited about the extra time with his favorite setter,” Kuroo teases, and even though Kenma groans in response, he also can’t bite back a smile. Kuroo feeling lighthearted enough to tease him has become rare, and he’s happy to hear his best friend sounding so much lighter. “I’m sure you’ll be able to shake him off onto the new first-year setter soon enough.”

Kenma hums in response, eyeing the calendar above his desk. “I’m just glad I get to visit next weekend,” he sighs quietly. He hasn’t been able to see Kuroo once since he’s started at university. They’ve tried meeting a couple other times, but timing and scheduling keep getting in the way. But they’ve been planning this for a month and a half, and Kenma just wants to see and be with his best friend.

“Fuck,” Kuroo starts, and Kenma feels his stomach plummet. “I thought I’d mentioned it before, but next weekend isn’t going to work out. My professor has to cancel class and change up assignments on the syllabus, so I won’t be able to…”

Kenma tunes out the rest as Kuroo continues to go on about why Kenma won’t be able to come up. And normally Kenma would brush this off, but this is the third time Kuroo has been the one to cancel the plans. Kenma isn’t the greatest at social cues, but he does know how to take a hint. Kuroo is off in college now, and probably doesn’t want to waste his weekends away with him. And it would be like Kuroo to not drop Kenma completely, but to keep coming up with excuses so Kenma wouldn’t feel as bad.

And if that doesn't prove just about every fear Kenma’s had about just being Kuroo’s childhood friend out of convenience. Lovely.

“It’s fine,” he says, interrupting Kuroo from his rambling. “I get it, you don’t have to make excuses.”

“Kenma –”

“I actually have a lot to do myself,” Kenma interjects because he cannot take Kuroo’s tone. In just saying his name he sounds so regretful and worried, and Kenma doesn’t want to make him feel bad. He’s just moving on, like he was always meant to. “I’ll talk to you some other time, okay?”

He doesn’t give Kuroo a chance to say goodbye before he’s hanging up on him.

He feels a little guilty for his behavior, but the guilt passes as the minutes go by and Kuroo doesn’t call him back.

And then hours pass. The night. Days.

Which isn’t to say he doesn’t keep in contact with Kuroo at all. They text sparingly through the week, mostly following up on already established conversations and neither bringing up anything new happening in their own lives.

And Kenma figures this the most natural way for childhood friends to drift apart. There’s no huge fallout, no grand fight. Just time, distance, and the heartbreaking realization that the only thing keeping them together was proximity.

Kenma figures that he and Kuroo both have other things to focus on. That friends are great and whatever, but they’re both at a point in their lives that will determine their futures, and that’s probably more important.

Kenma figures that this is what was always going to happen. That he’s going to have to get used to weekends, and birthdays, and holidays, and probably even his graduation without Kuroo now. 

Kenma figures a lot of things really. It doesn’t stop the ache in his heart as they continue to drift. Doesn’t stop how often he stares at the train schedule and the line he’d need to take to get to Kuroo. Doesn’t stop the way he stares at his phone as if he could will Kuroo to just call.

And it definitely doesn’t stop him crying silently in his bed when the weekend that Kuroo was supposed to come home finally rolls around and passes.

The Monday after, he thinks about calling in sick. His mother’s already left for work so she wouldn’t be able to check him, and all he would have to do is send her a text and she’d make the call to the school.

He ends up deciding to go, knowing that if he excused himself from this, then he would find ways to excuse himself in the future for any Kuroo related events. Grabbing his lunch from where his mother left it, Kenma makes his way out of the door and freezes as he sees Kuroo standing a couple feet away from him.

They stare at each other in silence for a long moment before Kuroo clears his throat. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, before slumping his shoulders in resignation.

“Can I please walk you to school?”

Kenma doesn’t trust himself to speak. He slowly nods his head and continues to stare at Kuroo as if looking at him will answer all the questions he has running through his head. Kuroo nods in response, and then they’re making the quiet walk down to the train station.

The entire walk is tense, and Kenma can’t even bring himself to pull out his handheld to distract himself from it. Not that he uses it much on his commute anymore. Without Kuroo to pull him away from obstacles in front of him, he’s found he just becomes danger to himself.

He opens his mouth to share this with Kuroo but closes it when he thinks about how much the anecdote will fall flat given the tension.

The entire walk goes like this, and by the time the high school is in his view, Kenma is thinking of a way to stall. Kuroo didn’t come all the way over here just to walk with him in silence, and Kenma has to do some of the heavy lifting himself. Kuroo is already one step ahead though.

“Are you free afterschool?”

He technically should be at the free practice coach has planned, but he’ll talk to Tora about it. They’ll manage.

“Yeah,” Kenma says with all the courage he definitely wasn’t feeling. “Let’s go to my house after.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows shoot up, but after a beat, a small smile graces his lips.

“I’ll be here.”

And all throughout the school day those words lingered in Kenma’s mind.

I’ll be here. The word choice was probably innocuous but Kenma can’t help but analyze them, turning them over and over in his head. The word here means the front gates of the school, but it could also mean just here for Kenma in general. Be refers that state of being, so if he was right then that mean Kuroo’s state of being is being there for Kenma.

And last of all the phrase is in future tense, so it’s a promise. There’s no way in knowing it’ll hold true until Kenma checks for himself.

And if that isn’t the most terrifying thought.

By the time the final bell rings and Kenma is walking to the school gates, he’s a mess of overthinking and self-doubt. He doesn’t know what Kuroo is doing here, what’s he’s doing with himself, why he’s come back like this. And knows his confusion is written all over his face, but Kenma can’t really bring himself to care.

Kuroo doesn’t look a lot better, but he does seem to settle as Kenma nears. He hands him a small paper bag that Kenma hadn’t noticed with a small smile. A peace offering.

“Thanks,” Kenma says with a smile of his own as he looks in the bag to see to a couple of apple turnovers from a local spot.

“No problem, it was on the way,” Kuroo says as the start walking back, and Kenma points out that he’s aware of the location of his favorite bakery.

Kuroo replies just as quick, and soon the two are back to how they were before. Kenma even shares what he was going to say earlier about not being able to walk home while playing games, and Kuroo laughs so hard the he almost manages to walk into a pole.

It’s good. Really good.

Kenma almost doesn’t want to invite Kuroo back to his house. They can just leave things like this, go back to normal, and never talk about how weird the past week and a half has been.

Until the problem arises again.

It’s that thought that causes Kenma to pull through and bring Kuroo into his house and then room.

The silence that follows his bedroom door closing is deafening.

“I need to—”

“What are you even—”

They both stop and laugh. Some of the tension leaks out of his body, and Kenma moves to sit on his bed.

“You can go first.”

“Right,” Kuroo starts with a deep breath. He makes himself comfortable at Kenma’s desk and turn the chair so that he can look directly at him. “I need to say I’m sorry. I know how much we were both looking forward to seeing each other, and I wish this could have turned out better. I feel awful that I keep having to cancel, but I’m here now.”

And that all sounds nice and all, but it doesn’t really get to the bottom of Kenma’s concerns.

“Kuro, please be honest with me,” Kenma starts, and watches as Kuroo furrows his eyebrows at him. “Do you still want to be friends with me?”

A pause, and then –

“What are you talking about?” Kuroo exclaims as he stands up from the chair. “Look, I know you’re upset about this weekend, but that’s a ridiculous question and you know it.”

“It’s not ridiculous. Look at it this way,” Kenma replies steadily, refusing to allow his own temper to flare up. “You’ve cancelled on me multiple other times with flimsy excuses, and when we finally plan something way in advance, you cancel again. I’m not a child Kuro, I can take it if you just don’t want to hang out with me.”

“Kenma, no, things just aren’t working in my favor, I swear,” Kuroo says as he presses his palms to his eyes. “The first couple of times were my fault for trying to put trips together too last minute – I admit that. But there was no way for me to anticipate my professor cancelling class and bumping up our assignments. I promise you; this isn’t me trying to ditch you or anything.”

And Kuroo sounds so earnest that Kenma thinks he might manage to be convinced. But maybe Kuroo isn’t aware he’s doing this? Like he’s subconsciously pushing Kenma away? He knows he’s grasping at straws, but if he doesn’t then that means he’s been the only one pushing Kuroo away and he doesn’t know how to grapple with that.

“If anything, it’s been you trying to ditch me.”

And that throws Kenma’s train of thought completely of course.

“What are you talking about?”

Kuroo shoots him a truly scathing glare, and Kenma flinches. He’s never been at the receiving end of one and doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. Kuroo begins speaking, counting off points with his fingers, and Kenma feels his throat close up at the frustration in his voice.

“Oh, I don’t know, how about the time when you cancelled on our trip because Shrimpy was in town, and he, and I quote, ‘Wasn’t from around here, so couldn’t reschedule like I could’. Or about the time when we were supposed to video call for the first time in forever, but you weren’t able to because you were out with the team for an impromptu dinner. Or how about when I invited you up, you agreed, found out it meant meeting my whole team, and backed out. Which I get Kenma, I do, but then you can’t just give me double standards.”

Kenma blinks rapidly at Kuroo. He knows all the events Kuroo is talking about, but he hadn’t thought they had mattered that much to Kuroo.

“Maybe I was being a little unfair,” Kenma concedes. “But it still really hurt when you cancelled on me. It made me feel like you didn’t want me around.”

“I’m not a mind reader Kenma!”

“Neither am I,” he replies just as sharply, and Kuroo sags a little before his eyes. “Besides, you were pretty good at it before.”

“So were you,” Kuroo says softly. He plops onto the bed beside Kenma with a sigh. “What even happened to us?”

And Kenma knows it’s meant as a rhetorical question, but he also knows that they’ve been avoiding this for far too long. They’re friendship has been fraying at the edges, and Kenma knows it time for him to take responsibility for what’s been happening to them.

“Kuro, I’m pretty sure it’s my fault,” Kenma starts slowly. He’s looking directly in front of him but can see Kuroo looking at him from his peripherals. “I…For a really long time I was always expecting you to outgrow me. You’re so fun and smart, and people really like you, and I guess I always just thought it was only a matter of time before you realize I wasn’t like that. And there was never really anything you did to make me feel like that, but any chance of you leaving me always made me feel like I had to encourage you along. Like it was for the best if you just…went.”

“But I also knew that I didn’t actually want you to go,” Kenma continues ruefully, looking down so that his hair covers his face, and he can’t see anything other than the way he’s playing with his own fingers. “Because despite whether or not I’m good for you, I wanted to be by your side. So instead of encouraging you positively like a real friend would, I shut down at any sign of you leaving so you wouldn’t feel obligated to me. And it was really selfish, and I’m sorry, Kuro. This whole thing has been my fault.”

Kenma pauses then. He knows he can stop at this point, that it’s enough truth to cover why their relationship has changed. Enough to fix things.

But this is also a good time to mention his feelings, and he doesn’t know if another opportunity will arise. However, before he can make a decision, Kuroo is speaking up.

“Ever since we were kids, I thought that you were the most incredible person ever.”

Shock strikes through Kenma’s body acutely, and he’s looking up at Kuroo instantly.

He’s looking at Kenma with a look filled with so many emotions Kenma nearly gets overwhelmed. There’s sadness, and worry, and affection, and disappointment, and confusion, and so many Kenma doesn’t even know where to begin.

“I thought _I_ was the lucky one to have met you so early,” Kuroo continues, oblivious to Kenma’s internal dilemma. “I also thought that it was only matter of time before someone who’s actually interesting caught your attention. And I’ve basically been letting that thought eat me up since we were kids. So I didn't want to come to you anytime I was feeling bad, because I thought it was just cause you to lose interest faster."

Kuroo sighs, and raises his hand to push a strand of hair behind Kenma's ear. Kenma's field of vision widens but the only thing he can think to focus on is Kuroo. "And I hate that, because I’m pretty sure that’s what blinded me from seeing everything you were going through. So I think that makes me selfish too.”

Kenma opens his mouth to immediately protest, but Kuroo had apparently already anticipated this.

“I know you said I didn’t do anything wrong, but if you were feeling like that then I should have done more to show you how much I –”

“Then I should’ve done more, too,” Kenma interrupts resolutely. “You said no double standards, remember.”

Kuroo looks like he still wants to fight, but the edges of his mouth are twitching up and Kenma feels a levity in his chest he hasn’t felt in a long time. The twitch turns into a real, genuine smile, one Kenma hasn’t seen on Kuroo since he’s left for college, and he’s speaking before his brain can catch up to him.

“I wasn’t finished, from before, I mean,” Kenma says, words stilted and his heart practically in his throat. “I still have something more I need to say.”

Kuroo eyebrows rise, but he remains silent. Kenma takes that as his cue.

“Like I said I’ve always kind of felt like I was dragging you down,” Kenma begins slowly. He’s not looking at Kuroo now, but he can practically picture the way his mouth opens in protest and almost smiles. “I know we’ve just talked about this, and I know you don’t feel the same way; but there’s always been a piece of me that feels like you do so much for me, and I don’t really do anything for you.”

“And I guess I was better at dealing with it before,” Kenma continues before taking a shuddering breath in. Kuroo is silent now, and it almost makes it impossible for him too look over at him like he wants to. But this is important. Kuroo needs to understand that Kenma knows it’s important. He turns his head and looks directly into Kuroo’s eyes.

“I was better at dealing with it before,” he repeats again. “Before I started having feelings for you.”

Kuroo’s eyes widen, and Kenma isn’t sure if it’s a good or bad reaction, but he knows he can’t stop now.

“I’m sorry that they’ve been getting in the way of everything,” Kenma continues, not letting his gaze fall away no matter how much he wants it to. He’s almost done, he can pull through. “And I’m not expecting anything out of this. It’s just…it’s something that you deserve to know about if we’re really going to get through everything.”

Kenma finally looks away from Kuroo and trains his eyes on his knees. He’d never expected that he’d ever need to tell Kuroo this. He thought he’d move on after a while – long after Kuroo moved on from him – and these feelings would never have to be brought up in the presence of his best friend. He’s never thought to prepare for the way his heart feels like it’s being crushed, or the way tears start to sting at his eyes.

He thinks he almost would have preferred never saying anything at all.

“When you say feelings,” Kuroo speaks up after the unbearable silence. His voice is raspy and strained, and Kenma has to blink back to tears of relief at the sound of it. “What _exactly_ are you talking about Kenma?”

Kenma clenches his eyes shut. He knows he spoke around saying anything concrete, but he was hoping Kuroo wouldn’t actually put him through this.

“Kenma.”

Kenma slowly turns his head at the sound of his name, dread and embarrassment clawing at his chest. When he finally drags his eyes to look at Kuroo’s face, he nearly loses his breath at the sight.

Kuroo eyes are wide and open, and he’s looking at Kenma like he’s the answer to every question he’s ever had. Kenma feels his heartbeat increase again, but this time fear has nothing to do with it.

“Kenma, I need you to be really clear with me please,” Kuroo continues, looking as lost as Kenma feels. “I know you don’t mean to, but you’re on the verge of crushing my soul right now.”

Kenma parts his lips as he continues to stare at him and allows himself a little hope.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispers, and Kuroo makes a noise like he’s been wounded.

“Kenma, I’m in crazy in love with you,” Kuroo breathes, and Kenma feels the world stop. “I know we have this issue where we see the other one as better than the other, but I swear I’ve only ever seen you as perfect for me.”

And Kenma hates the fact that he immediately starts crying. First, it’s a couple of tears, and then before he knows it a sob is building up in his chest and wracking through his entire body.

He knows Kuroo is trying to say something to him, but he can barely hear him over his own thoughts of disbelief because this is something he never saw happening and now he’s crying like a child and Kuroo probably thinks he’s a mess.

The words “I don’t think you’re a mess,” finally break through to him and it takes Kenma a moment to notice that he’s been pulled against Kuroo’s chest. It takes him a couple more seconds to realize that he had been talking out loud, and he’s glad Kuroo can’t see his blush from this angle.

“We have a lot to talk about,” Kenma replies, voice shaky and stuffed. He doesn’t want to move from his spot against Kuroo for at least another couple of hours though, and he makes that a point by burrowing even closer. Kuroo laughs softly and tightens his arms around Kenma.

“Yeah, we really do,” he says, and the words would be worrying if Kenma couldn’t hear the way Kuroo was beaming through his voice. “But let’s take a nap now, okay? I think we earned it.”

And a part of Kenma wants to point that they haven’t really earned anything. That all he did was cry and confess on accident and all Kuroo had done was hold him through it. But as they adjust themselves to comfortably lie on Kenma’s bed, he’s starting to realize that maybe all that they have done was enough.

That it was really true that he and Kuroo are enough for each other.

**Author's Note:**

> ugh this one was one of the hardest prompts for me to writ because it felt really directionless for a while, but WHATEVER I POSTED IT ON TIME AND THAT’S WHAT MATTERS
> 
> ALSO here is my [twitter](https://twitter.com/neenswrites)  
> pls come say hi!


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